Indecent Behavior

I t didn’t take long for all the seniors to find out what had happened. Once Rory thought about it, she must have figured she wouldn’t be sent home for something as silly as emptying my trunk. So she didn’t stop chuckling about how she had threatened to take my outfit, then found that all I had was the stupid “belle of the ball” getup my mother wanted me to wear. Everyone saw Rory doubled over on the volleyball court, laughing about my red dress and party shoes.

“I hear Aunt Sonia sent quite an outfit for the dance,” Robin snickered when we met by the clothesline between our cabins. “Where does she think you’re going? To the Waldorf?”

I grabbed my bathing suit.

“Regular clothes aren’t good enough for you, cuz? Well, I’ll tell you this: Your mother may think she’s a hotshot beauty queen, but she doesn’t know squat about fashion.”

It was all right for me to think that about my mother, but Robin’s saying it made my fists clench. Who was she to criticize how my mother dressed when her own mother squeezed herself into skintight Bermudas and nearly busted the seams of her shirts? “At least my mother’s clothes fit,” I mumbled as I headed toward the cabin.

The door slammed behind me.

“Your mother doesn’t know squat about anything,” Robin called from outside. “Jeez! She doesn’t even know how to raise kids. Just look at your screwy brother.”

Charlie. I no longer thought about him getting off the minibus every afternoon while I changed into my bathing suit. When had he slipped from my consciousness?

The day after Rory emptied my trunk, Nancy stopped Erin and me after lunch. “Come see me before the end of rest hour. I need to talk to you. Both of you.”

“We have to tell her,” Erin said as we walked toward Nancy’s cabin.

“No we don’t. She already knows.”

“Whaddaya mean?”

“I could tell by her voice. She knows there’s been trouble. Everyone knows.”

Nancy threw the question at us the moment we opened her door. “So why didn’t you tell me you had another problem with Rory?” She stood by the sink as we settled on her bed.

“Not to worry, Nance,” Erin said. “It wasn’t so bad. We’re fine.”

“That’s not the point. The point is Rory can’t be allowed to hurt Amy, to hurt anyone. You should have called for a counselor. You should have told Patsy. You should have told me.”

“But–”

“No buts, Erin. Now I want to hear from Amy. Why didn’t you tell me there’d been trouble?”

“I couldn’t tell you, ’cause if I did, you would have talked to Rory or punished her or something. And I was scared that would make things worse because then she’d try to get even with me for telling.” The rest I kept to myself. Telling would have gotten Rory in trouble–not enough to get her sent home, but maybe enough to ban her from the social. Telling might have ruined our plan. And even though I wasn’t sure Lion would work, it was all we had, and I was glad we were going ahead with it.

Nancy said she had no choice now. I couldn’t look at her when she told us she would have Patsy stay around the cabin during rest hour. Rory would blame this on me. I was sure of it. She’d believe I had told someone about the trunk. And Patsy would blame me too. There’d be no more time off after lunch. No more time for herself.

“You know, Amy,” Nancy said, “if you want to keep playing on the edge of a volcano, that’s your business. But remember: If you don’t call for help before the lava flows, it might be too late.”

Erin outfitted me for the social in madras Bermudas and a pale blue blouse. As she and Donnie fussed over which top worked better–pale blue or navy–I realized Rory had been right about one thing: What I wore didn’t matter. I wouldn’t have a good time no matter what. No matter how many boys might ask me to dance, no matter which girls might stay with me on the sidelines. I’d be looking over my shoulder until we’d say “Lion.” I’d be waiting for Rory to trip me on the dance floor or pour bug juice on my head. I’d be checking over that same shoulder on which my mother would be sitting, criticizing my outfit and telling me I’d be dancing more if only I had worn the dress.

“So we’re down to the wire, Ame,” Erin said, “and I think the light blue’s better on you.”

“Definitely the light blue,” Donnie said.

“That’s fine. Really good.” I pretended to care. “Thanks, you two. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, good thing you won’t have to find out.” Erin lowered her voice to a whisper, though no one else was in Bunk 10. Rory’s group had decided to do manicures in my cabin, where Patsy probably hovered over them. And Paula was off somewhere with Fran and Karen. “The only one we’ll be without is Rory,” Erin went on. “I still think ol’ Lion ’s gonna work.”

We gathered in The Lodge before the boys got there. My gang devoid of makeup. No black‑ringed eyes, no goopy lashes. Our sole concession, Pink Pearl lipstick, the trademark of our tribe. Paula had passed it around when we dressed in Bunk 10.

Rory’s band flaunted poufed hair and polished nails. War paint on their faces: powder, blush, mascara, eye shadow. Markings of the enemy.

We faced each other from opposite sides of the fireplace while younger seniors milled around the room, dodging folding chairs that lined the walls as if reserved for wallflower were written on them. Mr. Moose stared down on the space where the bear rug used to be.

“Well, lookie here,” Rory said, revving up for battle. “No red dress, Amy?”

The moose eyes seemed to shift, finding mine, challenging me to speak. I looked down, avoiding Rory’s stare, avoiding Mr. Moose.

“I’m talking to you, Amy Becker. Where did you dig up that faggy little outfit?”

I searched for Patsy. I wanted her to intercede. She had to be in The Lodge. She had walked us there.

“Y’all are mighty quiet,” Patsy had said to Erin and me on the path from senior camp. “Anxious about the dance, I suppose. But there’s nothin’ to be nervous about. Why, you two look so nice I’ll bet those Saginaw boys just won’t get enough o’ you gals.”

We hadn’t admitted we were nervous, not even to each other. But I knew we both were–our jitters having little to do with the Saginaw campers and everything to do with Rory.

“I asked where you got that faggy outfit,” she said again. From the corner of my eye, I caught Andy and Jed coming into The Lodge. Andy gave me a private wave, I thought, his hand not much higher than his hip.

“Amy’s outfit?” Erin answered for me as I watched the boys head toward Aunt Helen at the refreshment table. “I lent it to her.”

Rory looked me up and down, then studied Erin and barked a laugh. “Guess I could’ve figured that out.”

“Well, at least she didn’t wear the dress her mother sent,” Robin added, setting off giggles that snaked through her group. My stomach tossed around the meatballs I still tasted from dinner.

“Wouldn’t have mattered if Amy wore that dress,” Rory said once her gang settled down. “No one’s gonna dance with her anyhow.”

The Saginaw bus silenced them for a moment as it coughed its way to the back of The Lodge. Rory pulled Jessica by the arm. “They’re finally here. Come on, Jess.”

Aunt Helen darted from behind the refreshment table, where she had readied plates of cookies and pitchers of bug juice for Andy and Jed to serve. “You wait right where you are, dear,” Aunt Helen said to Rory, then glanced at the rest of us as if she just noticed we were there. “Honest to goodness, don’t you all look nice. Very nice, Robin honey.” Robin jerked back when Aunt Helen reached to fluff her hair.

“You have to excuse my mother,” my cousin announced as my aunt moved away. “She’s such an idiot. I hate her.”

It amazed me that Robin could say that aloud. Think it, yes. Didn’t I think how I hated my mother when she told me to fix my hair, when she warned Charlie not to spill his milk, when she gave my father “the look”? But I never said it to anyone.

“Robin, have you seen your father?” Aunt Helen called now from the doorway of The Lodge.

None of us had seen Uncle Ed. Other than Aunt Helen, the only adults in the room were the counselors from Bunks 7, 8, and 10. They huddled by the piano as if ready for a sing‑ along. Nancy had said she would stop by, but the boys arrived before she did.

We stiffened–even Rory and Jessica, I noticed–at the sound of male voices as the Saginaw campers walked toward the front of The Lodge. Then heavy footsteps on the porch. Hearty laughter.

I sang to myself to steady my nerves and to drown out my mother, who had taken up residence in my head again. I told you to wear the dress, Amy. What came without thinking was the song we’d been singing in the dining hall since the first day of camp:

The boys at our socials will never be

Tall, dark, and handsome and six‑foot‑three.

The boys we call our own

Will wear glasses and braces and smell of cologne.

“Welcome. Welcome.” Aunt Helen greeted them with a chuckle. “Come on in.”

The boys clumped in groups as we did. They glanced around trying not to be obvious, taking in the room and the girls. Aunt Helen chatted with a couple of Saginaw counselors. She scanned The Lodge as she talked, looking for her absent husband, no doubt.

But then the music started, and I lost sight of her. Jed placed a 45 on the record player set up on a table by the refreshment area. As Bobby Lewis sang “Tossin’ and Turnin’ All Night,” boys broke from their friends to choose partners. I looked down as they checked us out.

Everyone backed up to make space in the middle of the room. Robin was the first to be chosen. She danced with one of the few boys who negated our song about socials. Even Aunt Helen noticed Robin’s catch. My aunt stopped flitting around and beamed at her daughter, joined now in the center of The Lodge by assorted seniors from every cabin. Soon half the campers were bopping around.

I didn’t see Rory in the mix of dancers. “Probably dragged Jessica outside for a cigarette when nobody asked them to dance,” Erin said. “Maybe your uncle will catch them smoking and kick her out for that. All our planning, and she’ll get herself in trouble before we put ol’ Lion to the test. Wouldn’t that be something?”

Andy smiled at me when Erin and I walked toward the refreshment area, where younger seniors gathered.

“Hey, Amy,” Andy called over the “Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini” song. “I was hoping I’d be the first to ask you to dance.”

“Mr. B‑Becker won’t l‑l‑like that.” Jed focused on a stack of 45s.

“But I don’t see him anywhere,” Andy said. “So put a record on and cover for me, okay?”

My heart pumped fast. I looked at Erin, eager for permission to leave her.

She smiled. “Go ahead, Ame.”

Andy clapped Jed on the back. “See if you can find the Big Bopper.”

Girls raised eyebrows as Andy came around from behind the table. He grabbed my hand and led me to the center of the room. The record started.

“Good. He got it. You ready, Amy?”

I couldn’t find words–not even a simple yes. Heat pulsed through me as our bodies moved in step to the music, in step with each other. Andy sang along to “Chantilly Lace.” He looked at me as he sang and we danced and the room spun around.

I didn’t see Rory work her way toward us. I didn’t notice Uncle Ed as he entered The Lodge, Patsy not far behind, as I would hear later.

“I told you nobody’d dance with you.” Rory’s words broke the spell. “Not a real boy anyhow. Just a pot‑scrubbing twerp.”

“Well, I don’t see you dancing with any boy, Rory,” Andy hurled back. We kept moving, but in half‑time now, our spirits zapped.

“It’s okay, Andy,” I lied, eager to keep the lion caged. And then it hit me, right on the Bopper’s last words. Andy was right. Rory wasn’t dancing at all. Our plan couldn’t work if she didn’t find a boy.

I had to talk to Erin, who came from one direction while Uncle Ed elbowed his way across the room from the other. “I don’t pay you to socialize with my campers, young man.”

The room quieted, even though Jed had put on another record. Andy’s eyes caught mine, then lowered in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Rory grinned as if she’d just won a contest–which she had, in a sense. Instead of us getting her in trouble, she had drawn Uncle Ed’s attention to me. And in that instant, when Andy stalked back to the refreshment table and Rory’s smile grew wider, something inside me snapped.

“We have to get her, and I don’t care what her father does,” I told Erin as we walked to the folding chairs. “We’ve got to get her with a boy, and fast.”

Erin raised her voice over Del Shannon’s “Runaway.” “Not to worry,” she said, patting my leg before she got up and scouted the room. I watched her stride across the floor, head high, shoulders back. Whatever Erin was about to do, she was sure it would work.

She talked to two boys, then pointed to Rory and Jessica. One of the boys laughed as if Erin had just told the funniest joke. The other didn’t look as if he found it amusing, but he smiled just the same. The laughing boy put a hand on Erin’s shoulder and reclaimed his composure. As he and his friend zoomed in on Rory and Jessica, Erin headed back to me.

“Mission accomplished,” she declared, “and I couldn’t have asked for a better song.”

The boy who’d been laughing pressed Rory tight as Connie Francis sang “Where The Boys Are.” The other one danced with Jessica.

“Now all we have to do is tell Jed we need more slow songs,” Erin said. “And then we say the word.”

Andy avoided my eyes as he handed me a cup of bug juice. “Sorry, Amy.” He shook his head. “I wish I could’ve kept dancing with you.”

Jed told Erin he had lots of slow songs. “B‑but Mr. B‑Becker might not want too m‑m‑many slow ones.”

“Yeah, but I don’t see him. So come on, Jed. A favor for a friend.” Erin put my bug juice on the table. She pulled me away before I could think of anything to say to Andy. “Time to get in position,” she said.

We rounded everyone up. We didn’t say “lion,” though. We simply said it was time. The code word would have made this a game, and now we were certain it wasn’t.

Rory walked right past the lineup by the door, not stopping to question, not pausing to gloat. As her new boyfriend hustled her outside, she didn’t even look back to see if adults were watching. Maybe she knew she didn’t have to worry: Takawanda counselors danced with their Saginaw counterparts; Patsy and Uncle Ed seemed to have vanished; and Aunt Helen hurried back and forth from the kitchen, replenishing cookies and carrying pitchers of bug juice.

“We’ll give them a few minutes to get hot and heavy out there,” Erin reminded me, “and then we nail ’em.” She pulled me over to Donnie. “I think he’ll keep her busy for a while,” she told our gatekeeper, “but if they want to come in, don’t let ’em.”

Erin turned to me. “Now we find your uncle, which shouldn’t be hard. I saw him talking to your aunt right after he chewed Andy out. Maybe said he wasn’t feeling well or something, ’cause he went upstairs. So this is it. Let’s get him.”

Erin and I skulked up the steps. She pushed me to my knees at the top rung. “Stay low in case anyone looks up here. We’ll try one room at a time. And when we find your uncle, you tell him there’s a problem and you need him to come outside right away.”

Two empty bedrooms and a bathroom. The fourth door was closed. “I’m opening it,” Erin whispered.

“You can’t just barge in.”

“Do you want to be polite, or do you want to get Rory?”

“Get Rory,” I answered, knowing that politeness didn’t count anymore. The only thing that mattered was Uncle Ed’s catching Rory in her final false move.

Erin reached up to turn the knob, then shoved the door open. She pushed me into the room, where Patsy sat at the edge of the bed. Uncle Ed stood facing her, very close, his back to us. He whirled around, hand on his zipper.

I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t move. Erin yanked me from the room.

We ran downstairs, hunched over so no one would see us. “Get your aunt,” Erin ordered.

“Oh my God. No.”

“Just so she can catch Rory,” Erin explained.

I looked around at the dancing, the campers, the Saginaw boys–all hazy and unfamiliar. “I don’t see Aunt Helen,” I told Erin.

“Try the kitchen. Say anything to get her outside. And hurry. I’ll meet you by the door.”

I babbled something about noises when I pulled my aunt away from the refrigerator. We raced across The Lodge, parting dancers as we pushed through. Erin followed us out.

What greeted me made my breath catch. It wasn’t just Rory and her new boyfriend, but Robin and a boy too. The guys explored the girls’ breasts while the girls simply tilted their heads back, eyes closed.

Aunt Helen grabbed Robin’s arm. “What in the devil’s gotten into you, Robin? You should be ashamed of yourself!” She pried Robin from the Saginaw camper who gave her up without argument. “Just wait till I tell your father about this.” She dragged Robin to the porch steps, ignoring the boy who had massaged her daughter’s chest, disregarding Rory and her beau.

Robin chuckled. “Yeah. Go ahead and tell Dad, if you can find him.”

Aunt Helen pulled her toward the door. “For your information, he’s upstairs resting.”

“Right, Mom. Believe what you want. What do I care?”

Rory smirked at Erin and me. We watched her guide her boyfriend toward the side of The Lodge, away from view.

Erin steered me inside. Our gang blitzed us with questions. I let Erin explain how Uncle Ed was upstairs, and how Aunt Helen hadn’t even noticed Rory. “And for this I gave up the boy of my dreams,” Paula said. “Nice work, Erin. We still have Rory, and now I don’t have a boy to dance with.”

We still have Rory. Those words pounded in my brain with images of Patsy and Uncle Ed upstairs; Rory grinning at Erin and me.

“Look it, you guys,” Erin said as we huddled with our group. “We’ll find a way. We’ll make another plan. But there’s nothing else we can do tonight. So let’s just enjoy the rest of the social.”

Paula and Karen hustled to find the boys they had left for guard duty. Donnie and Fran headed for refreshments.

“Not to worry, Ame,” Erin said. “If things get really bad, we’ll tell your uncle he has to send Rory home or we’ll spill his little secret.”

Confusion and anger pressed like bricks on my chest. “No,” I told Erin. “I can’t blackmail my own uncle. And I don’t want you to tell anyone either.”

“Okay, I hear you. We’ll just come up with another plan then.” Erin spoke as Chubby Checker sang “The Twist.”

“But right now, Ame,” Erin continued, “let’s dance.”

I couldn’t believe she went on as if nothing had happened. Just thinking about what Uncle Ed and Patsy must have been doing made me want to throw up.

Erin swiveled her hips to draw two boys. “Yes, we’d love to dance,” she said, before the Saginaw campers even asked.

I didn’t notice Uncle Ed come downstairs. I didn’t see him come over to me. “You stop that gyrating this instant, young lady, or I’ll call your father and tell him about this indecent behavior.”

I couldn’t look at him, though I knew I had more to tell than he did. I turned from my partner before the tears came.

Uncle Ed followed me to the wall of chairs. “And don’t you ever tell anyone what you saw upstairs. ’Cause if anyone ever hears about it–and I mean anyone –you’re in big trouble.” Then he walked away, leaving me alone.

Erin found me on the sidelines. “Uncle Ed’s really mad,” I told her. “He said he’d call my father if I kept twisting.”

“So let him. I’ll bet your father would be happy to hear you were dancing. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do at a social?”

“He said I was being indecent.” Tears finally broke through. Erin put a hand on my back. “Come on. He’s just trying to scare you so you don’t snitch on him. I mean, who’s the indecent one here?”

I didn’t know how long Patsy had been watching us, but once I started crying, I suppose she felt safe coming over. “I just want to say nothing happened upstairs. I mean I just went up to find a bathroom, and Mr. Becker was up there. So we were just havin’ a little chat, that’s all.”

“Yeah, sure,” Erin said, pulling me off my chair. I sideswiped Patsy as The Tokens started singing “The Lion Sleeps Tonight.”

Donnie, Paula, Fran, and Karen giggled as they wandered over. When Nancy finally arrived, she found us huddled in the corner, everyone singing but Erin and me.

“I thought you’d all be dancing,” Nancy said. “But it looks like you’re having a great time together. And that’s what camp’s about: fun and friendship.”

She forgot the third part: secrets. But I didn’t need a reminder about that.

Дата добавления: 2015-10-16